Point in Time
by anonymime
Summary: A collection of drabbles and short stories revolving around the life of Lieutenant Commander Shepard. Focusing on family, loss, and life's strange amusements. Set from before ME1 through ME3. Multiple POVs. FemShep/Kaidan.
1. Mr Hannah Shepard

_A/N: This is a collection of drabbles, mostly based off prompts from the ME_challenge livejournal community. Chapters 1-21 are arranged chronologically, but after that it's just updated as I write them. Earlier chapters tend to be very short (100-400 words), but later chapters are averaging 1000-1500 words. The main POV is Shepard, but Kaidan, Hannah Shepard, Tali, and others pop up as well. Enjoy!_

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><p><strong>Mr. Hannah Shepard<strong>

"Red, what the _hell_ are you doing out there?"

"Just putting the new ship through her paces. I wanna see what this baby is capable of."

"You are not a goddman test-pilot, Shepard. Continue the patrol as ordered, or so help me, I will make you wish you had never been born."

"Geez-us, no need to get personal, LT. There's plenty of time for that during shore leave." Jim smirked, knowing full well the expression that was currently flying across 2nd Lieutenant Hannah Jones's face. She was hilarious when she was angry. And kind of cute, too, come to think of it.

_Aw, shit, Jim, what are you getting yourself into? _


	2. Dirt

**Dirt**

She hated only ever being in clean environments. Growing up on space stations and ships meant that the only real contact she ever had with earth was the occasional potted plant. It struck her as sort of odd that she could be from Earth and never encounter it.

Well, she supposed she wasn't _from_ Earth, technically. She was a Systems Alliance citizen, or at least, she would be when she turned 18. She couldn't claim a country back on Earth as home. Her father had been born on one of the early Martian colonies, and her mother on a high-orbit space station. She was a true spacer, and that was fine, but she just wished space wasn't so ridiculously _clean._

One of the pleasure cruises her parents booked passage on between rotations featured an artificial beach, and she had spent the whole voyage with wet sand between her toes, marveling at the texture. She'd begged her mother to let her take some of it back with them, but Hannah had just laughed and told her that most space stations were lacking in decorative appeal enough _without_ bringing dirt into the mix.

She loved space, she really did. She loved the ships and the faint thrum of engines, the stations and their endless labyrinths of corridors. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to live on just one planet, having to deal with rain, and sand, and mud, and snow constantly_._ But she liked the idea of going back and forth between space and land. Getting to see all sorts of alien worlds with all number of crazy environments and returning back to a ship at the end of the day. She could definitely do that. She really didn't mind getting a little bit of dirt on her boots.


	3. Marine

**Marine**

Her mother was a flight officer, manning weapons and navigation systems onboard carriers and dreadnoughts for most of her career. As a result, she grew up drawn to computer screens and blinking lights, getting lost in detailed maps and plans. Her mother taught her chess at seven, and by nine she was regularly beating crewmen, much to Hannah's amusement and delight.

Her father had been a hot-shot fighter pilot until a bad back forced him into desk jockey duty when she was just shy of fifteen, a change of living situations which neither of them had particularly welcomed at first and led to a bit of a rebellious phase for both father and daughter. But by the time Hannah's rotation was up, the two were as thick as thieves and Hannah immediately knew what her husband was up to when she arrived home at the apartment and caught them playing a flight sim.

"Girl's got great hand-eye coordination, Han."

"Mhhmm. She's too smart to be stuck in a cockpit, dear."

"Point, but she's got too much raw physical talent to be wasted nagging people around from CIC."

Jane peeked over the sofa and rolled her eyes. Her parents seemed to delight in teasing each other over the jock-nerd divide. How they'd managed to bridge it in the first place was beyond her, but she suspected having totally separate spheres of work and long rotations helped keep the marriage functional.

"Hello, darling." Her mother interjected before continuing on with a teasing rant about how her nagging kept the fleet safe. Jane, knowing full well that this particular speech was meant for her own consumption, decided this was probably going to be the best opportunity to cut in.

"I want to be a marine." She announced simply, turning her attention back to the game as a tactical retreat.

The complete silence that answered her announcement just made her grin wider.


	4. Precipice of Defeat

**On the Precipice of Defeat**

Alternately titled: An Ode to the Mako and Sniper Rifles

The planet reeked of acid and smoke, burning composites and flesh. The sound of crackling debris was interrupted only by a low rumble, followed by an ear-splitting shriek. The gridded prefabs sat alone on the flat landscape, staring back at her, indifferent to how their boring normalcy made the whole hellscape that much more unsettling.

Her world was limited to 10 by 30 centimeters and all of the sensory input that could fit between the broken plates of what was once an M35 Mako. Pinned beneath the debris, it was the only thing keeping her alive on several levels. For one, it kept her out of sight of whatever fucking nightmare was stalking the remainder of the unit. Two, she was pretty certain she would have bled out hours earlier if not for the pressure that was threatening to crush her leg. The gash above her left eye had ceased bleeding onto her eyelid, so she supposed that was a good sign. "Coagulation is good, right?" If she was going to die of blood loss, surely it would have occurred before she stopped bleeding.

She wasn't certain whether she'd asked that question aloud, but it didn't matter, because Madina couldn't hear her either way. The medic had died hours earlier, when the plates of the destroyed armored vehicle came crashing down around them after the ground rolled and heaved the remains of the Mako skyward like a ragdoll. His body, larger and bulkier even without heavy armor, had taken the brunt of the impact in the split second after he had pushed her down but before he could manage to do the same for himself. She knew this, but absurdly preferred to think that he could hear her mutterings and just opted not to respond instead.

In fact, the whole unit, which normally was a pretty chatty bunch, was oddly quiet. The last she had heard over her comm, Etienne reported that Plotkin had set up an emergency distress beacon, but she never heard a word from the LT or Chief after that. But that was two attacks ago, long before Toomb's strangled cries for help disappeared beneath the earth.

The reinforcements had to get here soon. And that thing had to die eventually. Those two thoughts were all that had kept her going, but suddenly it occurred to her that neither was a certainty. Worse yet, the reinforcements could arrive but be just as easily decimated as her own unit before wearing out the giant ill-tempered worm.

Someone was going to have to help take out that fucker before they arrived, or they'd all be dead.

The ground rumbled again, and above her head she could see Gounder's prized Hahne-Kedar Avenger VI shaking loose from where her seat used to be. It was tantalizing close.

_Just a few more inches. C'mon, shake it again, motherfucker._


	5. Normandy at Night

**Normandy at Night**

The _Normandy_ was too quiet normally, but at night it was downright eerie. She was so used to the bustle of thousands of bodies packed into tight, creaky spaces, the loud thrumming of centuries old engines, and the pulsating whine of patched up ventilation fans, that the low hum of the _Normandy_ made her anxious. She had taken to running half a dozen diagnostic checks after Engineer Adams' shift ended since she didn't quite trust the skeleton crew at first. Surely, they were competent individuals, but the equipment was all so new, so delicate, that she was convinced it required constant surveillance by none other than herself.

It led to a lot of sleepless nights in the beginning. After realizing that she was only a source of annoyance to the late-night engineers, she took to roaming the decks. Garrus had created a nest-like pile out of gearpacks and towels for himself behind the Mako, his mandibles twitching erratically while he slept. The first few nights Wrex had still been awake, eyeing her with amusement and chiding her that sleep was for the weak, but she caught him on the fourth night, standing upright and dozing. It would not be the last time she ran into him that way.

On the crewdeck, the servicemen and women took their turns in the sleeper pods, looking like little toy figures still packaged in their boxes. It was odd to see them upright as well, but most of them looked far more serene than Wrex ever managed. Chief Williams' hair was down and long, fluttering around her face, and Tali could not help but notice how much less severe it made the marine look. Human hair was weird, but it wasn't until she did a double-take while passing the Chief's pod that she realized how much of a useful identifying mark it had become for her.

Lieutenant Alenko spent a lot of time fiddling at the control panel over by Shepard's cabin or in the medical bay with the lights dimmed - at least, until Dr. T'Soni arrived. The asari and Dr. Chakwas stayed up late chatting over warmed herbal beverages, but the Lieutenant didn't seem to mind being displaced. Over the course of the mission, the electrical unit he had started fixing seemed to become more problematic. Shepard often pitched in and tried to help, and the two humans ended up spending a lot of late nights talking over the controls, but he always politely declined Tali's offers of assistance. Later, one day when he was ground-side, she took a look at the panel but couldn't find much wrong with it.

In the CIC Navigator Pressley could usually be found with a mug of coffee in hand, scrutinizing the next day's course before his shift ended. The first few times she wandered up to CIC on her own he eyed her warily, but now he smiled and nodded as she walked by. She never did manage to catch the Normandy's second flight officer at the helm, but she did hear Joker snoring in the cockpit once - such an odd sound that she startled and woke him up. He yelled at her for breaking his concentration, but she wasn't buying any of it. She teased him, but let the pilot know that his secret was safe with her so long as he didn't make it into a habit.

As the mission dragged on, she found herself able to sleep more and more comfortably. Her wanderings gave her a deeper sense of the crew and she trusted them to take care of the ship on their own. She even started to think of the small frigate as kind of homey, and the lack of engine noise no longer bothered her as much as it first did. The_ Normandy_ was quiet at night, but her nightly rounds made her think of it as rather peaceful now.


	6. Homesick

**Homesick**

He furrowed his brow, not quite understanding how to convey the concept any clearer. "I mean…don't you ever get…homesick?"

Now it was Shepard's turn to furrow her brow. She looked down at the gloopy rations before her and turned her spoon ever so slightly, watching the porridgy substance slide off with a soft _plop_. "No. I guess not." She flattened the soft mound of food that had formed with the back of her spoon. "I mean, I guess I never really had a home to miss."

Alenko said nothing but she felt compelled to explain herself to her Lieutenant. Her nose and mouth scrunched into an utterly unattractive twist as she considered what she was about to say. "You're going to laugh," she prefaced it warily, finally looking up from her food. But when she met his eyes, the Lieutenant appeared to be far from judgment or amusement. There was a softness there that seemed so earnest - perhaps even a hint of concern. It took her a moment before she realized that there was a lull in the conversation. She sucked some air through her teeth loudly to break the tension and prepared for the mockery that would surely commence.

"It's just…I'm a Navy brat. Both my mom and dad were Alliance and they were always on one rotation or another. I never really felt whole until I joined as well. Until then, I was always just bouncing around apartments and boarding schools." She dropped her spoon and gestured to the mess hall around them. "I guess you could say that this, the Alliance, is the only real sense of home that I've ever known."

She waited, mouth twisted, for the mockery. Alenko just sat back, a warm smile appearing across his face, "That's cute," he said, and then, looking as if he'd swallowed his own tongue, quickly appended a "Ma'am."

She scrutinized him for a moment before deciding that he was clearly just humoring her. "Oh for fuck's sake, Alenko, just say it," She picked up her spoon and pointed it at him accusatorially, "I'm the goddamn poster girl for the Alliance."

He laughed, finally, but it came out as a warm chuckle. "Just remember, you said it, not me, Commander."

Shepard scooped up a spoonful of food and shoveled it into her mouth as the Lieutenant dug into his own, still smiling. It was true. The Alliance was the only home she had ever known. And maybe it was just the sense of ownership that came with being the CO, but the _Normandy_ was starting to feel more like home than anything else she had known.


	7. I can see it now

**"I can see it now..."**

"But what the hell is it?"

"I dunno, Skipper, looks kinda like a horse."

"Really, Chief? I'd say more like a cow." Kaidan shifted uncomfortably as he watched Shepard approach the animal. She had her gun out but was using it to try to nudge the animal with the barrel rather than considering it a possible threat. After accidentally shooting one of the simian-like life forms on Eletania, the Commander apparently felt more at ease around unknown xenofauna - and probably just a tad bit guilty. "Commander, don't you think you should, ah, step away from unknown and potentially dangerous species?"

Apparently not. She snapped her gun to her back, popped off her helmet and turned to face the two marines, shrugging with a grin. "Come on, we just discovered an animal that none of the codices can recognize. Aren't you just the least bit excited and curious?"

Kaidan frowned. "Commander, I had no idea you were such a xenobiological enthusiast."

"Where's your sense of adventure, Lieutenant? New species!" She gesticulated towards the shifty looking cow with her helmet. "Besides, he doesn't look that dangerous." She turned back to the animal, "You aren't gonna hurt us, are ya, buddy?"

Williams rolled her eyes. "I can see it now...First Human Spectre Trampled by Space Cow."


	8. Stay

**Stay**

Her heartbeat thudded loudly in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the engines and ventilation fans and even her own breathing, deep and labored as it was. For the first time, she noticed that the large ceiling panels in the cabin had a slight, sloping warp to them, reflecting the light from the holoscreens at odd angles. And right on the edge of the haze, she could swear she saw her Lieutenant, grinning at her like an ass.

Her Lieutenant. She smiled. Funny how she thought of him that way. She reached out towards him, but her arm felt heavy. No, she thought lazily, she'd make him come to her. He was responsible for this all, anyway.

"Alenko." Her voice was breathy, not at all commanding, but it worked anyway.

"Yes, Shepard?"

"How'd we do?"

He laughed. "Maybe next time I tell you not to lead to the right so much, you'll listen. Williams has a nasty upper cut."

"Noted."

His face swam into her vision more fully and an arm extended out towards her. "Do you want to get up off the floor now, Commander?"

She took a deep, steady breath, listening to her heartbeat gradually slow, and noted that the scar on his chin was much more noticeable when his skin was pulled taut by a grin.

"No, I rather like it right now. Just…just stay with me for a minute."


	9. Listen to Your Heart

**Listen to Your Heart**

It scared her. How had a close working relationship become a casual flirtation and then suddenly something so real? She couldn't figure out where they- no, not they, she- had crossed the line. She was in charge, she was the commanding officer, and though Alenko was a career soldier who knew the rules just as well as she, it had been her duty to make sure that no lines were crossed. Or that if they were, that it ended right there and then. Not that she could have had him transferred out in a situation like this- no, not while they were on a months long mission from the Council, not with all the confidential information he'd been privileged to, and certainly not when the very fate of the galaxy was on the line, but-

_Damnit_.

She rubbed her eyes and stared at the blank holo-screen, the cursor taunting her with its rhythmic blinking.

Williams was dead. She could justify it- she had already in a half dozen drafts. She'd sent Alenko with the bomb because he was the tech expert, the priority was the bomb and Saren had forced their hand. And so Williams was dead. No matter how she framed it, she couldn't stop second-guessing herself. Kaidan was the superior officer, she should have sent him with the salarians; Ash was more than capable of arming a nuke. He worked better with aliens; she wouldn't have set the bomb to self-destruct without explicit orders. He could've held off a geth attack- she should've had enough time to double back to get Williams- right?

She rubbed her eyes again and searched around the cabin. She regretted her decision not to sneak a bottle of whiskey onboard. She'd been too concerned about her appearance in the beginning- she didn't want anyone doubting her command. And now here she was, doubting herself and desperately needing a drink.

She tried to imagine what she would've done if everything had been reversed. If Williams had been a career biotic and tech officer and Alenko the good soldier. Or if she'd sent him with the salarians and left her with the bomb. She told herself that she made the right call, that in those ridiculously contrived hypotheticals she would've saved Ash, that whatever it was between her and Alenko, it hadn't interfered with her call. It didn't help. Nothing did. Nothing provided answers. Nothing alleviated the guilt.

The only thing that made her feel steady was the very same thing that had caused this whole mess in the first place- the bomb. The bomb had to have gone off and it did. Whatever her reasons, whatever had led up to it- it went off. Saren didn't have an army. They'd weakened him and they'd slowed his plans with the Reapers.

It didn't make it any easier. It didn't make her feel any better, but she knew that there was nothing she could do now. Losing Ash was painful. She knew from experience that she had to push that aside for now and keep going. If she let herself think about it too much, the grief could become a terrible, paralyzing force. Compartmentalize. Stop thinking. Box it up and move on. Grieve for your friend later, when you can afford to listen to your heart.

For all her hypotheticals and second-guessing, she never actually allowed herself think about what it would have been like to lose Alenko.

It scared her.


	10. Something Borrowed

**Something Borrowed, Something Blue**

Shepard thumbed the photo frame, wiping away a fingerprint on the glossy screen. A young couple in dress blues smiled back at her, arms entwined, looking as if they were on the verge of laughter. The woman held a bouquet of cheap white flowers at her side, and the man was thumbing the cork of a bottle of fake Champagne.

"Oh geez," Hannah laughed, peeking over her daughter's shoulder. "We were so young!"

Shepard smirked, "You were 28. That's only a year younger than I am."

Hannah arched an eyebrow and matched her daughter's smirk with one of her own, "Like I said." She hovered closely over her daughter's shoulder. "It all seems so long ago." She sighed and a few seconds passed before she spoke again, tapping her own image in the photo. "You know, I noticed that you don't have a dress skirt in your closet."

"They're totally impractical."

"Oh, don't be silly, it's all formalwear anyway. Plus, it's nice to have the option of a skirt to change things up a bit. You know, a little something interesting for those ultra-special events. Say, like when you have to attend a ceremony for saving the universe..."

Shepard coughed, handing the photo frame to her mother. "Or a quickie military wedding."

Hannah flashed a wicked grin, "Oh, not getting any ideas, are you?" Shepard shot her mother a look of amused incredulity, and Hannah's wide grin fizzled as she glanced back down to the photo. "Yes, well I suppose I shouldn't expect my by-the-book Jane to go about flouting fraternization regs. It's not like you've had much time to meet anyone off-duty."

Hannah happened to look back up just in time to catch a hint of red tinting her daughter's otherwise tightly controlled poker face. She managed to bite back a laugh, more out of surprise than anything else, and after a few seconds of pretending not to notice she spoke in as neutral a tone as she could muster. "You know," she said, pointing to the photo, "I still happen to have that uniform skirt...just in case..." She let her sentence trail off, but Jane had completely regained her composure and was having none of it.

"What? Just in case I save the universe again?"

Hannah put the photo back down on the desk and started moving towards her closet. "I was thinking something a little bit more unlikely, but you never know."


	11. Pendant

**Pendant**

Shepard looked down at her uniform and frowned. She was going to have to get the pinbacks all redone. She supposed that in the grand scheme of things this was not really a problem. Pieces of a Reaper crashing into the Citadel were a problem. The planned destruction of all sentient life in the universe was a problem. The Council not taking her seriously was still, much to her annoyance, a very big problem.

Having so many medals and ribbons for distinguished service that it made wearing a dress uniform a small logistical nightmare was not really a problem. Or at least, not one that was likely to garner that much sympathy.

She sighed and started unbuttoning her jacket again, the pendants rattling as she reached for the ruler. What she really needed was a level.


	12. Hannah Meets

**Hannah Shepard Meets Shepard's Love Interest**

David was on the podium now. His voice was tired, broken, but still commanding. Hannah reached for her husband's hand and Jim squeezed back, a reminder that this was real and that they were both here.

The coffin behind David was empty. The honor guard stood watch. She wondered idly if any of them knew the Great Commander Shepard. Really knew. Probably not. They looked familiar, but this was not her first military funeral.

So much silence. David had finished speaking. Hadn't he just started? A lone brass instrument's lament filled the room. The honor guard began to fold the flag. Jim squeezed her hand again and Hannah looked up.

"On behalf of the Systems Alliance and the Chief of Naval Operations, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's service to humanity and a grateful Navy."

She'd heard it before but had always looked away when they presented the flag to the grieving loved ones. She reached for the flag gently and wondered how many people were staring at the back of her head and how many were looking away.

It was over now, the ceremony at least. There was soft shuffling as the people rose from their seats. She turned her head to watch them and the first flicker of emotion she had felt that day overtook her. There were so many people here. And not just in Alliance blues, though the room looked like an ocean of it. Civilians too. And non-humans. She spotted a turian, a quarian, and an asari and with a jolt realized that they were the same she had seen a few weeks earlier, during a very different ceremony. They made their way towards the coffin, the remaining crew of the _Normandy_ not very far behind.

People stopped to pay their condolences, demanding her attention, but Hannah did not process the words beyond the soft murmuring sounds. Her eyes were focused on those making their way past the coffin now. The asari's face was tear stained, and she reached out to touch the cold metal. Her whole body shook. The quarian placed a hand at her back and led her away. The turian stopped for a second and then continued past the coffin. Naval personnel in dress blues followed.

Hannah watched them approach, the asari's uncertainty and awkwardness being the only readable face. The quarian spoke first. "Shepard-" she started, and then quickly looked between Hannah and Jim before starting again more hesitantly, "Your child…was very special to all of us. You have our deepest condolences." The turian nodded and said something that Hannah's translators didn't quite pick up - it was almost lyrical though, as if a prayer.

They looked ready to leave at that, but the asari suddenly clasped Hannah's free hand, "Thank you for bringing such an amazing being into this universe."

She wasn't sure if she said anything in response, but before the shock wore off they were gone. Jim was already acknowledging the first wave of blue dress. Sirs and Ma'ams and solemn faces were traded. A young brunette woman with a raspy voice looked Hannah in the eyes, "Captain, I just want you to know that it was an honor to serve with the Commander."

More dress blues, and an older woman with silver hair, "My deepest condolences." A litany of words of sympathy, and honor, and service. A handsome officer with a deep but clipped voice rounded out the group of Normandy survivors. "I am so sorry for your loss, Ma'am."

They were followed by more soldiers, dignitaries, politicians, and civilians. So many people. Their faces and words all blurred together.

By the end of the day, Hannah had no idea who she had met.


	13. Falling to pieces

**Falling to pieces**

You had been broken once before. All it took was a few days of no contact in a hellish landscape, watching your friends and comrades die all around you. Some of them died quickly and you had hardly any time to react; all you could do was run. Others took far too long to die in agonizing pain and you acted too slowly there. You listened to their moans and desperate prayers all night; too afraid to put them out of their misery because then it would mean that you would be alone. Every hour that passed, hope fled you. Every time the earth moved, it weakened your resolve. Every friend that died took a piece of you with them.

You survived. You even put on a good show of being the brave soldier, but it took a long time to put all the pieces back together.

When you touch the new scars, the ones that wiped away the ones you earned, you have to laugh. You suppose it took them a while to find all the pieces this time as well.


	14. Not calling you a liar

**I'm Not Calling You a Liar**

Two years. Two months of shock, four months of whys. A year of pleading silently to wake up from the nightmare. Six months of looking forward to nothing but dreams.

And here she was. The ghost that had haunted him, both sleeping and waking. When she died, she'd stolen what little faith and hope he'd had in the universe. Nothing was left of him now but the soldier. He could still follow orders - the memory of her dedication and the knowledge of the greater threat still lingering out there carried him through the day to day motions. The rumors of her survival gnawed at him endlessly, never letting him be whole. They filled him with false hope and seething fury. Shepard was a lot of things, but she was not a traitor.

But now the ghost was staring back at him. Robbing him of what little he had left.

"Kaidan, you know me. You know I'd only do this for the right reason."

He wanted to trust her. But she'd lied to him.

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><p>AN: Prompt was a lyric from Florence + The Machine song of the same name.<p> 


	15. We Meet Again

**We Meet Again**

He'd been waiting for this day. He knew it would come eventually. Sure, the last time he and Shepard had met face to face, they hadn't exactly parted on amicable terms, but that was then. A lot of things had happened since their last meeting. People change; they regret the things they say to each in the heat of the moment.

There was an undeniable spark between him and Shepard, and he knew that if he just had the opportunity to talk to the Commander that the flame could be rekindled. He slicked back his hair and smiled.

"Commander Shepard. We meet again."

The Commander grimaced. "Hello, Conrad."


	16. Coma

**Coma**

She doesn't care to think about the details of the Lazarus Project. When people question what happened, she skates by with 'technically dead' and 'coma.' People don't tend ask too many questions after that, and if they ask her what it was like she responds with an honest "I don't remember."

There are so many wild rumors about those two missing years of her life that it's easy to laugh it all off as just another insane conspiracy theory. Even her crew doesn't ask for specifics, and so she lets them believe whatever it is that they want to believe. Among those who know the whole truth, the doctor is sworn to professional confidentiality and the pilot owes her one personally. And of those few who know all of the gory details of her resurrection, well, most of them died moments before their project was finished or very soon thereafter.

After the mission is complete, Miranda offers to show her the medical files and explain everything. She knows that this is Miranda's form of a peace offering, but she looks down at the datapad and pushes it away.

"There's nothing to explain. I was spaced, technically dead, and in a coma for two years. And that- " she points to the pad "-is all just science fiction."

She knows Miranda won't destroy the data. It's far too valuable. But Shepard would rather not know any of it.


	17. Resurrection Protocols

**Resurrection Protocols**

The data package arrived at one of his undisclosed addresses, the sender unknown and the encryption heavier than most of his files from the Spec Ops. That alone was enough to intrigue him. Within a few days, he recognized that the encryption was similar to one of Cerberus's older keys, and a new sense of urgency took over the project.

A few days later, his omnitool beeped, flooding orange light throughout the cabin. _Decryption Complete_ blinked at him incessantly. He rubbed his eyes and waved away the alert.

_Lazarus Project_

_Mission _

_Logs_

_Subject Medical_

_Media_

A neatly packaged record. Gauging by the file size it was more than enough to get the general idea of the project. Whoever had sent it had wanted him to know just enough without having to sort through miscellaneous files.

Part of him knew that he should get some sleep and look over the files with a fresh set of eyes, but he felt the childish urge to tear into the unexpected present immediately. It could be time sensitive, he tried to reason with himself.

From the looks of it, it was a contingency operation. _In the event of subject expiration_, it began and Kaidan was amazed to see the wall of pseudo-legal and medical text that followed. Paragraphs full of _if, then_ procedures to be followed for several hundred different scenarios for the subject's untimely demise. _If heartbeat arrested…if brainwaves weak…if blood loss…if asphyxiation…if blunt trauma…if…_ and details for how the subject should be handled for each.

He knew that Cerberus was involved in some pretty horrific and ethically unsound experiments, but he was surprised by the amount of almost loving detail they had in place for this particular project. It was unsettling. Whomever or whatever the subject was, it appeared to be extremely important.

He scrolled down quickly until one phrase jumped out at him.

_Resurrection Protocols. _

He read it again. _Resurrection Protocols_. A deep feeling of unease took hold in the pit of his stomach. Who had sent this? Why? Why him? He had a sinking feeling that he already knew the answer.

Somewhat reluctantly, he opened up the logs and was rewarded with a sharp stab at his chest.

_Destruction of SSV Normandy, SR1 - 07:48:38 07/12/2183 - 176,528 km High Orbit/Alchera/Omega Nebula/Amada System/ _

_Surprise attack by unknown forces, declared officially by ASN to be geth [highly unlikely] . Lt. Commander Shepard declared KIA, body unrecovered by Systems Alliance. Cell sent to Alchera to recover remains, but reported mercenary interference._

_Will be recruiting XXXXXXXXXXXX to recover Shepard's body._

Kaidan stared at the holo. Shepard's body. Resurrection protocols. His brain refused to process any of it. He forced himself to read on.

_Shepard's body recovered by operatives. Unknown if STX-1687 Reconstructive Data Storage Suite still salvageable. Brain wave recording should have persisted until the moment of brain death so long as hardsuit electronics remained relatively undamaged_.

His lips parted in disbelief, a thousand questions brewing all at once. A reconstructive data suite in her hardsuit? Why? How? How could they have hidden something like that in her armor? Why? The technology was still in its infancy now, with the degradation issues surrounding President Huerta's transfer still an issue of intense debate back on Earth - but three years ago? How did Cerberus have access to such advanced tech? And more importantly, how could they have gotten it into Shepard's hardsuit without anyone noticing?

His mind reeled, trying to remember how badly damaged her hardsuit had been after the Battle of the Citadel. She had been particularly attached to the N7 armor, a custom-build from Aldrin Labs, and she doted on it almost as much as her guns. An image of her down in the _Normandy's_ garage, polishing the Onyx armor to a shine while laughing with the Chief about something long forgotten rose unbidden in his mind and he tried to swat it away. _Focus, Alenko._

Cynicism set in. If she had been a Cerberus operative the whole time then there would have been plenty of opportunity to install the recording unit. Hell, it was probably the reason why it was a custom-order suit. Maybe even the reason why she was so attached to it. Yeah, he'd be a lot more attached to his hardsuit if it had the capability to prolong his life after his body's natural death.

But could it be true? Could she have really died, or was someone trying to mess with him? He certainly wouldn't put it past Cerberus, but word was that she had cut herself off from them now, if that could be believed. He honestly still didn't quite believe the reports that her ship had returned from the Omega-4 relay. It all seemed too far-fetched, too unbelievable, but then wasn't it so quintessentially _her_ to manage to pull off the impossible?

He scrolled further down into the logs. _Mental stability_ caught his eye. A laundry list of issues regarding the subject's possible reaction to resurrection were addressed. The issue of implementing a control chip kept cropping up in the notes, but much to the author's dismay and Kaidan's relief it appeared to be a non-starter.

_TIM insists that subject must be brought back exactly as she was before brain death. Issues regarding her past and any negative feelings associated with our organization are to remain untouched. If full mental cognition is restored, TIM assures us that subject can be coerced into cooperation. However, team psychiatrists are developing mental conditioning program in case of complete mental break. [Update 15/02/2185: conditioning proved unnecessary; subject angry and suspicious but has thrown full support behind the mission for the time being.]_

Kaidan leaned back in his chair, his mind running in circles. If this information was real, then she wasn't an agent. Or she hadn't been. But she hadn't been a traitor. It hadn't all been a lie. He wanted to let go of a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding for two years.

But now a new thought struck him, one that he immediately realized was so much more awful. She had died out there with the _Normandy_ only to wake up in an unfamiliar place, surrounded by people she didn't trust, with her last memory being of god only knows what. And they had expected her to just keep going as if it was all only a minor glitch.

He spent the next several hours pouring through the medical files. So many details of her life before her death - broken bones and surgeries, childhood vaccinations and bootcamp gene therapies - but so much more of it after. And so much of it he couldn't understand - cybernetics and synthetic tissue that cost fortunes, half of which were still experimental. Every square centimeter of tissue appeared to have been rebuilt or regenerated. Cloned organs, bone grafts, skin weaves, metal alloy fusions - it was fascinating, and he couldn't stop himself from reading despite his creeping sense of horror.

At some point he fell asleep, but his dreams were full of strangled cries for help and the _Normandy_ exploding around them, her outstretched hand always just out of reach.

He avoided the file for a week. When he finally viewed the images, he spent twenty minutes in the head vomiting and didn't sleep for two days.

He tried to trace the package, trying to figure out who had sent it, but to no avail. Then one day he found a packet buried in the data, one that didn't fit the rest and that simply read _'I just thought you should know the truth'_ and nothing more.

She had really died and come back to life. And now that he knew it, he didn't know what to feel – relief, horror, and guilt seemed to swamp him all at once. He just prayed that she managed to stay alive long enough for him to figure it out this time.


	18. Far Away

**Far Away**

This is not the end, she knows. This is only the beginning. But she is tired, so very tired. She aches for a chance to just step aside, for the weight of so many worlds to no longer be on her shoulders. Part of her wants to laugh at that, the absurd notion that she is the only being who can save the galaxy, but the larger absurdity that she was brought back from death for that very purpose, that she has become more than just one person, that she is a symbol and a myth and that her life is no longer just her own, prevents the cynical mirth from bubbling up.

The truth is that she can't stop now because she doesn't know what else to do. She pushes forward because she has to, because hurtling herself in front of a runaway train is the only way she knows how to feel alive. She doesn't know what she'll do with herself when it's all over, doesn't know how to blow aside because life (and death) have never just let her be.

But it doesn't matter right now, because the end is far away. So far, so far away.

* * *

><p>AN: Prompt is the title of a wonderful song by José González, from the Red Dead Redemption soundtrack. Also, writing this made me realize that I have turned my poor Shepard into Buffy circa Season 6.<p> 


	19. Initial Appearance

**Initial Appearance **

The remainder of her mission consisted mostly of analyzing all of the data that they had collected from the suicide run and Liara's intelligence networks. Once EDI had compiled it, safely stored backups, and disseminated the information to all relevant parties, there was not much else for Shepard to do but see that each member of her crew made their way off the ship in a safe and discrete manner. She helped create false leads and new identities for the former Cerberus crewmembers, while her squadmates used their various resources and abilities to see themselves off one by one.

Jeff refused to leave, despite EDI's insistence that she was more than capable of seeing Shepard and the _Normandy_ to Earth.

"You wouldn't let me go down alone, so I don't know why you expect it to be any different on this end." She threatened to throw him out of the airlock, but he pointed out that either way, they'd be even.

And so, just as she had promised, when the time came and Earth called, she answered.

Which is why she now found herself handcuffed and surrounded by armed marines, trying to give her full attention to the stiff looking man who stood before her, reading from his datapad in a bored tone as if the entire situation was utterly routine.

"Lieutenant Commander Jane Shepard of the Systems Alliance Navy, you have been accused of espionage, desertion, aiding a known terrorist organization, and the destruction the Alpha Relay, which resulted in the complete annihilation of the Bahak System and the deaths of over 300,000 Batarian civilians, a crime against all sentient life. You do not have to answer any questions or say anything at this time. Anything you say or do can be used as evidence against you in a criminal trial."

A small part of her brain wondered if that was all, but he continued on.

"You have the right to talk privately to a lawyer before, during, and after questioning and to have a lawyer present with you during questioning. If you are now willing to discuss the charges brought against you, with or without a lawyer, you have a right to stop answering questions at any time, or speak privately with a lawyer before answering further. The Alliance will provide you with a lawyer, but you have the right to retain private counsel should you so choose."

He paused, and her brain snapped back to attention.

"Do you understand your rights as stated?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any questions regarding your rights or detainment?"

"Yes." At this, the man's eyes left the datapad, somewhat startled.

"Will I be provided with a set of Service Dress Blues?"

The man stared at her in disbelief, but she held her head high and stared right back at him as if it was a perfectly normal thing to ask.

"I made a promise, you see."


	20. I'm Sorry

**I'm Sorry**

Shepard marched into Alliance Defense Command before anyone had time to realize that her shuttle had docked. There was a flurry of panic as the marines on duty tried to stop her from reaching the lower levels without drawing weapons. Vega silently paged the Admiral the moment he saw her. The woman was an imposing sight and she wasn't even armed – dress blues perfectly pressed and hair tied back in an impeccable bun, her stance brokered no argument and the look on her face was downright frightening.

"Lieutenant, you _will_ let me see my daughter."

Vega was barely able to get in a "Ma'am," before she added an insistent "_Now_," that he was fairly certain was more of a threat than an order. Mercifully, Admiral Anderson's voice cut through his sorry ass excuse for a protest.

"Captain. Lieutenants." They spun on their heels and James watched as the Captain gave the Admiral what had to be the shortest, angriest salute he'd ever seen an officer give to a superior. Anderson took it in stride. "I think I can handle the situation from here."

* * *

><p>"Permission to speak freely?"<p>

"Hannah, please-"

"What the _hell_ have you done to my kid? What are you not telling me? You spoke at her goddamn _funeral_, David, you tell me what I'm supposed to believe is going on here."

Anderson put his hands up to calm her, knowing that there was nothing he could say to make up for everything. "I'm sorry, Hannah."

Shepard stared back at him with a look he'd seen in her daughter's eyes countless times before. One that met defeat with fierce determination, a cool gaze that somehow still burned him. She did not have to say another word.

* * *

><p>The door to her cell opened but she didn't even bother to look up. A week of questioning, physical exams, and little restful sleep had left her indifferent to her company.<p>

A familiar voice cut through the silence after a moment. "Hey, honey."

She looked up in disbelief. "Mom?" Her mother smiled back at her, a sad little smile that broke her more than any interrogation could ever manage. "Mom." Her voice cracked, and a torrent of emotion rushed forth as her mother crossed the room. "Mom," she sobbed, "I'm so sorry."


	21. You've Gone Soft

**You've Gone Soft**

Vancouver was beautiful.

She'd been to the Alliance Headquarters on Earth once before, shortly after Akuze. They had pinned a medal to her chest and called her a hero, but she hadn't processed any of it. Her mother had tried to get her to see the sights, insisting that the cool, relatively fresh air of one of Earth's cleaner cities would do her a lot of good, but she insisted on going back to Arcturus as soon as the ceremony was over. Earth was too quiet. She found the absence of the low thrumming vibration of artificial supports unsettling, and the sky was just too damn open. The last thing she needed them to add to the psych report was a fear of wide-open spaces. It wasn't exactly conducive to getting her back on a ground team.

But now, now all she wanted was wide-open space. From the top of the Alliance Defense Command building, she could see for miles in every direction. The city's skyscrapers blocked some views, but on clear days she could make out Mount Baker in Washington and Vancouver Island across the Straight. She'd spent her first few weeks on Earth in a very real jail cell, but she couldn't help but feel that her present situation was more confining. A quickly put together commission engineered by the Defense Committee had relieved her of duty and placed her in an administrative hellhole pending further investigation. No one said anything to her about her status, but she was still under guard at all times and her movements were closely watched. She knew that her new Lieutenant was actually her jailer, and while he vouched his support and loyalty and cursed the bureaucracy the first moment they were alone, she wasn't about to let him endanger his own career by testing to see just how free she actually was.

Career. Shepard wanted to laugh. It was ridiculous that being relieved of duty could bother her, considering the larger problems they were all facing. It was a slap on the wrist; no doubt causing a political shitstorm somewhere. It was even a surprise to her - when she turned herself in, despite all of Anderson and Hackett's promises, part of her had worried that they would throw her into a brig once they got to Earth and that she would die there when the Reapers finally did arrive. But the Defense Council had expressed actual concern along with their heavy skepticism and had delayed any further prosecution. So now all she could do was sit on her hands in an even more frustrating manner, surrounded and restrained by petty mundanities.

Relieved of Duty. That was pretty much a career death sentence right there, assuming that she actually had gone crazy and was wrong about the whole imminent destruction of all sentient life thing. What bothered her most though was the fact that they'd taken away her sidearm, and not shockingly, that her ID profile didn't grant her access to the shooting range. She'd call them overly paranoid, but she had at one point instigated a mutiny, so she couldn't fault them for taking precautions.

Her gym access was still there, and Lieutenant Vega was more than willing to spar, but lately all she wanted to do was run. For the first time in her life, a treadmill, even one with scenic holos, wasn't enough. She wanted to be outside, she wanted to feel real ground, breathe non-re-circulated atmosphere, feel the cool dampness in the air. She'd spent nearly three months on Earth, the longest amount of time since her Academy days, but she still felt like she knew nothing of her surroundings. Earth wasn't familiar. It wasn't home. The thought provoked a profound sadness that she had never felt before, and she found herself wanting a sense of ownership in the planet that she had sworn all of her adult life to protect.

Vega caught her staring out of the window on one of the city's few crisp, clear spring days and finally took pity on her.

"You wanna go for a run?"

Shepard startled. "Out there?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I know you haven't gotten out much, but it's not like they've thrown away the key. C'mon, I could show you around the city."

Shepard raised an eyebrow. This was not the first time a lieutenant had offered to give her a tour of this city, and though she believed Vega's intentions were purely professional, she doubted his ability to deliver on them. "You sure they won't require us to take a whole marine squadron for my 'protection'?"

"Who's going to recognize you without all those guns strapped to your back? Besides, if you make a break for it, I get to be the guy who tackled the infamous Commander Shepard. C'mon, how about Stanley Park?"

Shepard frowned. That had been on the list of places to go, once they had the time. Plans that were never seriously made because there was always something more important that needed to be dealt with. Once they stopped Saren. Once they wiped out the remaining geth. Once they stopped the Reapers.

_"There are some really great trails there, right in the middle of the city."_

_"I'm not really one for hiking. I mean, I like scenic vistas as much as the next person, but-"_

_"You just prefer that they be from a Mako, precariously balanced over the edge of a mountain."_

_Shepard opened her mouth in protest but could conjure no retort, and so instead she narrowed her eyes at him. He was grinning at her, unabashedly._

_"Tell you what, meet me in Vancouver next shore leave, and maybe I'll be able to change your mind."_

_Now it was her turn to show dangerous amusement, "Is that a date, Lieutenant?"_

_Alenko smiled innocently into his coffee cup, "Maybe. Maybe I just want to make sure you don't go soft on us while you're on vacation."_

He'd been at the first commission hearing, the one they'd brought her to in handcuffs. She hadn't realized it until the end, and he left without saying a word. For some reason, that hit her harder than all the things he'd said back on Horizon. There was just nothing left for them to say to each other. She didn't even know where she would begin.

"Commander? You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, a run sounds good."


	22. Escape

Escape

Her arm was in a sling and she was wearing a dress uniform and he still couldn't take his eyes off of her. He'd been trying, all evening he'd been trying to mingle, trying to play the part of the well-polished Alliance Hero (trying not to scoff at that title either, no matter how ridiculous it felt), trying not to keep staring across the room like a lovesick teenager. But he kept looking up and she kept smiling and damnit, it wasn't fair. The crew of the _Normandy_ had barely had a moment of downtime since the Battle of the Citadel. Then they were dragged away from the recovery efforts to weather the PR storm, and that only annoyed him further. At least when they were sorting through the wreckage and starting to rebuild, he felt useful. And Shepard was never too far away, barking orders and making plans, despite the temporary handicap.

But this? The first moment of pause in three weeks and the crew was dragged back to Arcturus to have medals pinned to their chests so that the Alliance could distract Earth and the colonies from the casualty reports. Kaidan didn't normally consider himself the cynical sort (a cautious skeptic, maybe), but he knew that Alliance Command was fighting fires back home due to Shepard's decision to guard the Council. They'd lost a lot of good men and women in the battle to take down Sovereign, and it made him feel somewhat sick knowing that he was playing a part in a political game to minimize and control the damage. Some hero.

Of course, that's not all that he was conflicted about. He felt like a selfish idiot, given all that was going on in the galaxy, but he hadn't managed more than a moment alone with Shepard since...since that night before Ilos. He still couldn't quite believe that he'd worked up the courage, or been enough of a desperate fool to go to her quarters that night and say what he'd said, and he still couldn't believe that she hadn't flat out rejected him, and...well, they hadn't been court-martialed yet. He supposed that was a good sign. He stared into his glass, nearly empty. Hopefully he hadn't pissed his career away by listening to his heart instead of his head. He smiled a little bit and swirled his drink, wondering just how far gone he was. There had been no grand declarations of love, no big dramatic moment, just an awkward conversation that was met with smiles and encouragement, and a night to themselves. A pretty fantastic night, but that was it. He hadn't asked her out on a date, hadn't pinned her as his girl (as if he, as if anyone could _claim_ Shepard), there'd been no discussion of what it meant for the future because at the time there had been the very real possibility that there wouldn't be one. He could still remember the feeling in his gut when he'd come to, pinned beneath a piece of wreckage and Anderson had been the one reaching his hand out instead of her. That incredible sense of dread when they'd asked where Shepard was, and he realized that they hadn't already found her, and how he almost broke right then and-

"Credit for your thoughts, Lieutenant?" He jerked his head up and was greeted by that sly grin of hers.

"Ah- planning my escape, Ma'am."

She grimaced at the title and surveyed the room, taking a sip of amber-colored liquid as she did so. "Afraid that's not possible. They've got all of the exits blocked, and we are without backup."

He looked around and noticed that most of the enlisted crew had already managed to sneak out, no doubt off to more interesting locales. All that remained were the officers, and those numbers were thinning as well. Already, a hungry-looking MP was making his way over to them. Shepard caught his eye and pointed to his glass. "You're all out of ammo, soldier. What's your drink?"

"Whiskey, neat."

She flashed him another grin, moving close to switch his empty glass for her full one. "A man after my own heart."

His own heart stopped in his chest for a moment until he realized that she was about to leave him to the wolves. She moved to take off towards the bar _just_ as the MP arrived and the politician didn't even attempt to hide his dismay.

"Excuse me, Mr. Sato, but I'm all out of drink," She said, smiling and shaking the empty glass she'd swiped from him. "I'll be right back. In the meantime, please acquaint yourself with my Marine Detail Commander, Lieutenant Kaidan Alenko." They both watched her leave wistfully.

Suddenly, the name registered and Kaidan shook out of his reverie. "Sato? Takeshi Sato? You're on the Subcommittee on Transhuman Studies, correct?"

About an hour later she returned, her glass nearly empty again.

"'Be right back,' Commander?"

"Don't start questioning my judgment now, Alenko. I'm about to bust us out of here." She chewed her lower lip, but there was determination evident in her brow and posture. He laughed, and she elbowed him softly, nudging him towards the exit.

They were almost at the door when Udina called out Shepard's name. That man was going to be the death of him. Shepard knocked back the rest of her whiskey and spun quickly, placing her glass on a table and holding her good arm out wide at their interceptor. "Sorry, Ambassador, but my crew is getting into trouble in the lower district. I need to get down there before the Alliance's finest put a dent in the station." Udina rolled his eyes and sighed, waving her off.

They barreled out of the hall and into the main stretch of corridor together and Kaidan laughed, "Lying to the ambassador? Who are you and what have you done with Shepard?"

She shrugged one shoulder innocently. "It's Udina. Plus, the amount of alcohol that was flowing freely in there? Odds are good there's already been an incident down at whatever hole in the wall the crew has found."

"Speaking of which, what exactly did you have in mind now that we're free of the brass and vultures?"

For the first time all night, he saw her lose her cool, looking startled and out of place. "I - uh," she sped up her pace, looking around furtively. She rounded a corner, and when he caught up to her she turned, pinning him against the wall with a sudden kiss. His mind reeled but his body reacted instantly, lips parting slightly and then pushing back against her pressure. She tasted of honey and alcohol and he ached for more, but before he could wrap his hands around her she pulled away cautiously, wincing. "Ah, that was a stupid idea."

_Well, shit._ He fumbled for mental cover. "Shepard- if you're not sure, I mean, we don't have to rush-"

She laughed, and he couldn't tell if she was about to rip his heart out or not.

She studied him carefully for a moment, her mouth quirked into an inscrutable expression before it relaxed. "Kaidan, I've been meaning to do that for a while."

The vice in his chest loosened. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She offered him a warm smile and rolled her eyes. "I just managed to forget that my arm is still fractured in two places right now."

"Ah, yeah, ouch." He looked down at the sling that was currently wedged between them, threading his fingers through her good hand. "That's a problem."

"A small one, in the scheme of things." She tugged at his hand. "You wanna grab a cup of coffee?"

He smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that."


	23. Implant

_A/N: This takes place after the UNC: Cerberus mission in ME1_

* * *

><p>"Ah, shit."<p>

Shepard placed her helmet down on the bench, and looked around the storage deck. "Something wrong, Lieutenant?"

"It's my seals. They seem to be stuck." He pulled at his helmet, to no avail. "I think the spit from those creatures in the lab is messing with them."

"Here, let me take a look." She walked over and waved her omnitool over his hardsuit, as he stood silently, avoiding eye contact. "Yeah, looks like something gunked up the system. We'll just have to pry it off." She turned, "Williams, can you get me some tools out of the Mako?"

"Aye, Commander." The Chief disappeared back into the ground vehicle.

Shepard reached for a towel from one of the lockers and signaled him to turn around with a twirl of her finger. "Damn, Alenko, I had no idea you'd gotten a face full of that stuff." She sounded mildly annoyed, and he felt pressure against the back of his neck as she cleaned up the armor.

"I wasn't exactly expecting you to open up the containment field, Commander. A little warning would've been nice." He felt her hand still. He knew he just should've kept quiet, but part of him was still annoyed that she'd just gone ahead and done it without a warning, and the other part of him was angry with himself for being distracted. He tensed and twisted to face her, "Sorry, Com-"

"No, you're right, don't apologize. It was a dumb call. Won't happen again." Williams walked over, one of her eyebrows raised, and Shepard reached out for the toolset.

"Got something to say, Chief?"

"No ma'am. Just curious as to how you plan on getting the LT out of his suit."

Shepard grabbed a flat-head screwdriver, looking it over. "Well, normally I'd buy him a drink first, but I think we're just going to have to skip right to the down and dirty."

The Chief snickered and Kaidan frowned through his helmet. "Laugh it up, Williams." He eyed the screwdriver in Shepard's hands warily. "You just going to jam that into the back of my head?"

"Questioning my judgment again, Alenko?"

"If you'll forgive me ma'am, yes, I am slightly concerned about your plan of attack."

"I've done this before, it's not like this is the first time a suit has jammed." She replied flatly.

"Did the other people have several thousand credits worth of tech surgically implanted into the base of their skull?"

"No." She frowned, seeing his point. "Williams, can you see if Doctor Chakwas has anything more..._delicate _that can aid us?" Ash nodded and took off towards the elevator, and there was an awkward lull. Shepard placed the screwdriver down and took off her gloves, running a hand through her hair.

"I can't believe the Admiral is dead." He offered lamely to fill the silence.

She scowled. "I wish we'd gotten there faster. This group, Cerberus, I don't know what they're up to, but I really don't like it. The marks on the body were just..." She shook her head. "I can't believe they were Alliance."

"That's the thing about black ops, when it's all illegal anyway, how do you know where to draw the line?"

She shook her head, "I don't know, but I don't know how you can kill your own people. They were us, at one point, Kaidan. I mean, I've done spec-ops, I could've easily ended up in one of those units."

He startled at the use of his first name and leaned back. "It's not that simple, Commander. I can't see you blindly following orders like that. I mean, it's like that biotic cult, they're clearly individuals who were already a bit off to begin with and then they're brainwashed on top of it all. You wouldn't put me in the same category as them."

He didn't mean it to be a question, but it suddenly sounded like too much of one to his own ears.

She sighed, "No, I guess you're right. Again." He exhaled, and watched as she started rummaging around in her locker. He wasn't sure why he was suddenly so apprehensive. Shepard had never given him crap about being a biotic; never really acted differently around him before. She'd been the consummate professional in regards to his condition at all times – she had showed concern about his headaches off-duty and wasn't too demanding about his biotics in the field. She didn't have unrealistic expectations about his abilities, but she didn't coddle him either. She just treated him like any other soldier, knowing his strengths and limitations like a good commanding officer. Yet he still worried about what she thought of him, personally.

She finally found whatever it was she had been looking for. "Let me take another look at that helmet, Alenko." He obliged her, swiveling sideways on the bench. She pressed her finger against one of the seals. "Hold on a sec," He heard a snapping sound and then felt pressure against his neck again and could hear something tinkering against the composite. After a few moments of her scratching away at something, there was a popping sound and the helmet's seals relaxed. "There we go."

He lifted the helmet up off of his head and craned his neck around to look at her, "How did you—"

She held a small piece of metal up to him.

"Is that – is that a bobby pin?"

She nodded, grinning, "Yup."

He laughed, but noticed that her eyes had drifted down to the back of his neck to his implant. He looped his leg around the bench and turned quickly so that his back was no longer to her, running a hand through his hair self-consciously.

"Sorry." She said, biting her lip and looking away.

"Ah, don't be. I should be used to the stares by now. I'm just glad you don't treat me like I'm going to snap at any moment…You're definitely one of the more understanding COs that I've had." He shook his head, "So you've really never worked with a biotic before?"

"Not this closely, no. Short assignments, larger teams. I didn't ask too many questions. It seemed…rude."

He laughed, "Don't worry, Shepard, you're not going to alienate me."

There was a pause as she looked him over. "What's it like?"

He snorted. "Anything specifically?"

"The implant. Being able to create and manipulate dark energy. All of it."

He gave her a tired grin, "Well, the implant is a bit of a pain. Gotta keep the area clean at all times. It drove me crazy as a kid after they first put it in, I wanted to scratch at it all of the time. But now? I barely even notice it's there."

"It's pretty small, I don't think I've ever really noticed it before now."

"Yeah, and the L3 and L4s had less scarring and inflammation issues, so they're even easier to miss. Between that and the Alliance's love of high-collars, biotics can almost pass for normal in the military." He smirked, but she frowned thoughtfully instead of smiling at his self-deprecating humor like she usually did.

She looked down, undoing the seals on her boots. "My mother was exposed to Eezo while she was pregnant with me. Docking bay accident."

His grin faltered.

She shrugged. "I spent a lot of my early childhood getting dragged to doctor's offices- my parents were pretty scared. Nothing ever manifested, obviously, and I was lucky enough to be a healthy kid, but…" She sighed. "It's funny, how kids think. My parents tried not to act worried about it, but all I knew was that I was either really sick or really special. So I just hoped and hoped that I was one of the special ones. I used to get excited about going to the doctor because I felt fine, so obviously I couldn't be sick." She let out a huff of air that somewhat resembled a laugh. "So imagine my disappointment when I found out I was just a boring ol' normal."

He studied her carefully for a moment, before tilting his head, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "You're anything but boring or normal, Shepard."

She opened her mouth to say something but the doors to the elevator opened at that moment, revealing Doctor Chakwas, a med bag slung across her shoulder.

"Ah, I see you two have managed to get it off without my assistance." Chakwas shot a mildly suspicious look at Shepard. "I hope you didn't rattle the Lieutenant's head too much, Commander. The way Williams described it, it sounded like you were ready to take a hacksaw to the problem."

"I'll leave the cutting to you, Doc. All this apparently needed was some good old-fashioned elbow grease." Shepard held up the bobby pin again and shot an appraising glance his way, "I might have messed up the Lieutenant's hair though. Hopefully, with enough styling product it will make a full recovery. "

Chakwas chuckled and Kaidan ran a hand through his hair again, frowning sheepishly.

Great, now he had something else to be self-conscious about.


	24. Wake Up

**Wake Up**

She shifted, pulling the sheets close against her body. It was cold, colder than usual in her cabin. The sheet was stuck on something, refusing to give more. She rolled again, hitting a solid mass of something warm, something soft, something -

She woke up then in an instant, eyes wide. Oh god. She was naked. She was very naked. And there was a man sleeping next to her, in a very similar state of undress. And if - no, that had been a dream - wait, _no_, clearly not a dream - that was, _shit_. She rolled onto her back slowly, trying not wake her bedmate, and stared up at the ceiling of her cabin.

_Okay, no big deal. That's just your lieutenant there in the bed next to you. Way to go! Definitely won't ruin your career there!_ Her brain struggled to wake up, to fully process how she had managed to find herself in this situation. She knew she hadn't had anything to drink the night before, or at least, she wasn't dehydrated, so not enough to lead to or blame on poor decision making abilities, and so...

Oh, right. Mutiny. Impending death. She looked over to Alenko. He was on his side, his back to her, the low light in the cabin casting a glow about him, outlining his strong shoulders and highlighting the smooth skin of his back. He had a few birthmarks almost dead center between his shoulder blades and she had to resist the urge reach out to trace the dots with her fingers. The details of the night before replayed in her head, definitely too clear to have been a dream, and she allowed herself a moment of self-satisfaction. Kaidan was attractive, that was for sure, but it was more than that. He was honest, and sincere - he was always straight with her, never just told her what she wanted to hear. He made her smile. And he cared, probably more than he should have. And she cared for him, definitely more than she should have. But the warm fuzzy feeling she was allowing herself to indulge in gradually became an aching constriction in her chest as she remembered why he was in her bed. Why they had given in at this moment.

No, she had just found this. She didn't want to give this up. A small part of her wanted to stay in this moment, to say to hell with the galaxy, and to just spend the rest of eternity in this bed next to him. As if that would solve everything. She allowed herself to daydream, to imagine what it would be like to wake up with nothing to worry about and find out what he was like in the mornings. Would he have stayed? Would she have woken up to find his arm around her? Would he have wanted her again?

_Wake up!_ She snapped at herself._ You need to wake up and soldier on_. She pushed herself out of the bed slowly, sitting on the edge, and allowed herself a glance back to the man lying beside her. She didn't know what this meant, or if it meant anything at all, but damnit, she was going to give herself a chance to find out.


	25. Two Roads Diverged

There was no body.

She couldn't remember the details of the crash or how much time had passed since then. The only way she could tell that time was still, in fact, moving was by tracking the reports and rumors that trickled in slowly.

There was still no body.

After the Alliance picked them up there had been hope that the twenty-one unaccounted for souls were just what their status indicated - Missing in Action. But after a few days (_had it been that long? how long had it been?_) the reports started to add 'presumed' and swapped out another word for 'missing'.

She didn't like that presumption. What she needed was more information. If there was one thing she had learned in her short life, it was that you always needed more information. She was used to operating on scraps and assumptions and intuition, but more data never hurt. And while there was a lot of chatter about the destruction of the _Normandy_, there were still too many questions that remained unanswered.

There was no body, but the Alliance had already set a date for the memorial service.

They were wrong, and she would find the proof.

Her omnitool beeped, lighting up the cabin.

Shepard was still alive. She just knew it.

Appealing directly to the Alliance was useless. The paperwork had already been filed, the speeches already prepared, and the politicians were already practicing their solemn looks and brave faces. She needed someone with a personal connection, someone who cared, someone she could trust.

Which was why Liara found herself in Lieutenant's quarters. It was a bare and impersonal space, no doubt shared between more than one officer on a rotational basis, but it was private. He had tried to feign warmth upon her arrival, but Liara could tell that she was not welcome. He looked tired. She asked him how he was doing and received the non-response that she expected. She indulged him in a few more awkward exchanges before deciding it was better to just be direct.

"She's not dead, Kaidan. I just know it.

He stared at her, pity and exhaustion warring with one another across his face. "Liara-"

"There are too many missing pieces, too many rumors. The Alliance hasn't even finished scanning the Amada system yet and already there are reports coming from Omega about an unusual amount of activity spiking in the Nebula immediately after the crash-"

"Liara-"

"It's just unreasonable that that the Alliance could close the book on this whole case so quickly, when they haven't even located the wreckage of the ship and-"

"Liara-"

"-Shepard's hardsuit vitals weren't recorded anywhere after the ship began to break apart, despite Joker's account clearly stating that she was still alive after the initial explosion-"

"Li-"

"And given the fact that there is no body-"

He grabbed her by the shoulders suddenly, and she saw anger and the barest flicker of blue in the normally staid biotic's large brown eyes. "Liara. She's gone."

She stared back at him in shock. "I don't believe it.

He searched her face for a moment, at a loss for words, before turning away and raising a hand to his temple. "You don't have to, but it doesn't mean it isn't true."

"Shepard isn't dead, Kaidan." She watched him take a shuddering breath. "She can't be."

His back was still turned to her.

"I just— I just thought you should know… I've put together some leads about what may have happened and where she could be, and I think they're very promising—"

"Leave." His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"What?"

"I need you to leave."

"I just thought that you of all people would want-"

He turned to face her sharply. "This isn't about what I _want_. She's gone, Liara." The anger receded from his countenance after a moment, leaving only the tired, defeated look from earlier. "You just- you just need to accept that."

She stared at him in disbelief. "I can't."

He shook his head. "Then I'm going to need you to leave."

She could feel her jaw working, trying to find something to say that would convince him of her certainty, but all she found was the desperate need to cling to this one little bit hope for herself. She couldn't accept the alternative, couldn't process this grief that was threatening to drag her down- not until she had definitive proof one way or the other. She turned to leave.

"The service is in two days." His voiced seemed to catch. "You should be there."

She nodded.

But they still didn't have a body.


	26. The Little Things

Miranda blew on her noodles, impatiently waiting for them to cool as she flicked through the day's reports. Engineering was still complaining about the couplings, and she had yet to figure out a way to put a positive spin on Shepard's actions on Freedom's Progress in her report to the Illusive Man. The woman was very insistent that Cerberus personnel not question the young quarian male they had come upon, and Miranda could already see that working around the Commander's stubborn moral code and her distrust of Cerberus was going to make things…difficult. _Well at least she's still the same annoyingly high-minded idealist_, she grimaced. She had just grasped a noodle and held it tentatively to her mouth when the object of her frustration came barging into the room. Miranda barely had enough time to put down her meal before Shepard threw a datapad onto her desk with a loud smack.

"What the hell is this?"

Miranda took a moment to register the sight before her – despite the bite in her tone, the Commander was trying to maintain her composure, but she could still see the cracks – her hair was somewhat disheveled, and the very top of her dress uniform appeared to be unbuttoned. She then surveyed the pad warily before noticing that it was not, in fact, a datapad, but rather appeared to be a photo frame. Her eyes narrowed, and she replied coolly, unsure of just what had set the former Alliance marine off. "A photo frame?"

Suddenly, she was very glad that Shepard didn't have her sidearm. The look the Commander had given her was downright predatory. She reached for the frame carefully and it flickered to life.

At first, Miranda didn't recognize the face in the photo. It was a male, approximately mid-30s, dark hair, medium skin tone, chiseled jaw, dimpled chin, strong brow – the sort of face that Miranda would imagine you would find next to a description of "conventionally attractive human male" in a Salarian text on human mating patterns. She frowned. The photo didn't look like a snapshot from a personal photo collection - the subject was staring off into the distance in a way that smacked of a ham-fisted, patriotic PR campaign.

_Oh_. Miranda took an even breath, suppressing the urge to smirk before meeting the Commander's eyes again. "It appears to be Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko. Your former Lieutenant aboard the_ SSV Normandy_."

"Yes. Yes it does." Replied the Commander evenly. "Would you mind telling me what that's doing in my cabin?"

Miranda knew where this was going. Shepard no doubt thought this was part of some brilliant Cerberus master plan to psych her out and force further cooperation. Oh, how she wished that were the case. She sighed out of frustration. "I am not certain how this particular photo ended up in your cabin, but Yeoman Chambers was tasked with making your quarters more comfortable, and I if I had to hazard a guess, I would say that this was her attempt at making it more…familiar."

Shepard's stare was ice cold- she knew that they knew. Part of Miranda wanted to laugh at Shepard's expense. To revel in the fact that perfect, obnoxiously moral Alliance golden girl was apparently not so perfect after all. _Yes, we know all about your little dalliance with your subordinate. Loose lips, what did you really expect, Commander?_ But then, Miranda knew the cost of high demands and expectations, knew the mental toll being a flawless example at all times. Sometimes, you just wanted to be human, everything else be damned. Grudgingly, she gave Shepard a pass.

"I'll inform Yeoman Chambers that her attempts at interior design have failed, and furthermore, instruct her not to enter your cabin without your authorization."

Shepard nodded slowly. "Thank you, Ms. Lawson." The statement was forced, anger and suspicion still abundant in her tone, but at that she turned to leave.

"Commander-" Miranda stood, grabbing the frame and walking around her desk to offer it back. "It might be a good idea to keep it. You can upload another image, at the very least." She held the Commander's gaze before adding softly, "After all, it's always nice to remember what you're fighting for."


	27. Hannah's Torrid Love Affair

__A/N: This prompt was a bit too random and specific for me to pass up. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose.__**  
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**Hannah Shepard, Kaidan's Dad and their torrid love affair**

It was Fleet Week and she was a junior in college, cynical and pretending to be bored with the world, and he was older – much older, wearing a UNAS uniform and lavishing drinks on her. She would've taken him back to her apartment just for that, but the way his eyes crinkled when he looked at her and that dimple on his chin made it a sure thing. A poli-sci major, she had no idea what she was going to do after she graduated, but she'd told him confidently that she wanted to work for one of the supranational agencies dealing with extraterrestrial resources management.

He'd laughed at that, told her she was too much fun to be wasted on policy wonks, and kissed her so thoroughly that she almost fell off the bar stool.

They'd lain in bed together for a long time afterward, and she played with his dog tags while he talked, whiskey still clinging to his breath, about how the world was changing, how people still weren't thinking enough about the big picture, and she'd dozed off nodding.

It had been the year they discovered Element Zero, two years before the Systems Alliance was chartered. More than half a lifetime ago. She hadn't seen him or even thought much about him since, but if not for the fact that they were brown eyes instead of blue meeting hers now, she almost could've sworn that he was standing in front of her right now, completely unchanged by time.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant, I didn't catch your name-?"


	28. Gonna Drink Myself to Death

**I'm going to drink myself to death**

After the initial response, no one wanted to talk about it. It was too much to process – too much horror, too much suffering. And all because they had failed at their job, their duty. No one talked about that either, but it was haunting most of them. What good was the Systems Alliance Navy if it couldn't defend the colonies from slaver raids? A farm colony, filled with young families, people looking for a fresh start on a new world. A dream turned into a nightmare.

All of those children.

Hannah stared at the whiskey in front of her, the glass already half empty, and thought about Jane, back home on Arcturus. They had enrolled her in the naval boarding school when she entered high school, but Jim was there now too, and it was the first time in years they had a real place to call home. Jane, her little Jane. She had always been so mature, so unfazed by all the changes in their lives, the different rotations and ships and stations, taking it all in and just letting it wash over her. And now she was starting to carry herself like more of an adult, more self-confident, and commensurate with that, a little bit more antagonistic than the quiet little girl she had been just a short time ago. But she was still a child. Just barely sixteen. God, how many of them down there had been her age? Or younger? Hannah shook her head, refusing to think about it and knocked back the rest of her drink.

The man next to her ordered a vodka tonic, and she looked up at that.

"Lieutenant." She nodded as soon as he looked her way.

"Ah – Commander Shepard," He tried to salute but Hannah waved him away.

"Relax, Zabaleta."

He scratched the back of his neck and snorted, "I guess that was the idea of coming here." He motioned to her empty glass, "What's your poison?"

Hannah opened her mouth to order another, but something made her pause. She grimaced. "Ah, sorry, Ernesto, but I think I'm done for the evening." She bobbed her head as the reason why crystallized, "If I get back soon enough I might have a chance at a vidchat with the family."

He smiled, and some part of her noticed how it didn't quite reach his eyes. There was something sad about that. The bartender set his drink down in front of him.

"Well, if you do, say hello to Jim for me. And if you don't, well," he picked his drink up and waved it at her, "You know where to find me."

She gave him a small smile in return, tapped the bar with her fingers and pushed herself away.


	29. He's Gone

**He's Gone**

"Third and Fifth Fleets retreat! Second Fleet, hold until everyone is through the relay!"

_No. _Hannah stared at the screen shouting orders at her, at the image of Hackett on the monitor interrupted by static from the battle. "Sir, the Orizaba and the Logan have the biggest guns, we can stay behind to pro-"

"Damnit, Shepard, I gave you an order. We need those guns for another day."

"Sir-"

"This battle is a massacre. Arcturus is gone. We need to regroup. Meet at the rendezvous point. "

She faltered, not expecting him to be so blunt. She looked to the readout screens, one of which showed Arcturus Station, sections of it blinking frantically with red damage alarms. One section, one very familiar section, already completely destroyed.

She knew her orders. She knew what they meant. She knew what they were leaving behind. She should have retired. They should've found a nice little place out on one of the colonies - Elysium, or Benning. They should already have some fat grandchildren by now. Their daughter shouldn't be in a jail cell, Hackett shouldn't be ordering her away like this, none of this, none of the last three years this should have happened. _He's gone. _She told herself. _He's already gone. _She tore her eyes away from the screens, and prayed that Jane had gotten off of Earth, somehow.

"Yes, Sir."


	30. Omega

**Omega**

Death had been an abstract concept before, inevitable but far away, something not worth worrying over. It came with the life she had chosen, the life she had been born into. You never knew when someone wasn't coming home from a rotation, so it was best not to dwell on it.

But now, now it was all too real. Death was an urgent companion, preying around the corners of her mind, stalking her, leaving her restless and unsure. Now she found herself more cautious, and yet somehow more reckless. Now she knew what it was like to feel your life slipping away with so much left undone.

She was on her second, but she had still not lived a full life.

This was suicide, the way she had been living these last few months. Surrounded by people, but so alone. Untethered to reality and chasing down a phantom. Working with the devil in order to give her a purpose. Her body may have recovered, but her soul was still stuck in the past, unwilling to accept the present. She was always stubborn, but this was going to get her killed.

This was suicide- this mission, this life. She had pushed herself up onto the ledge, but now that she found herself looking at the fall, she realized that she didn't want to die. Not again.

She wandered into the office in her cabin and wondered what her last thoughts would be this time. Probably the same as last.

That terrified her.


	31. At the End of All Things

**At The End of All of Things**

_No_.

No, this was just the _beginning_.

No, _this_ had just started.

No, she had _just_ gotten him back.

Her world froze but the opponent moved toward her, malice singed in metal. Unthinking, unfeeling, she unloaded the clip methodically. _No – no – no. _

The metal body crumpled before her, and she stared at the prone figure beyond it. Not a body, but Kaidan. The rest was a blur, one part of her mind feverishly registering that he was still alive, another aching pit in her chest cautioning her as his vitals flashed across her HUD. Joker yelled in her ear, and the thought briefly crossed her mind that they might not even make it out of orbit - that she may not even have to contemplate what would happen if they didn't get him stabilized in time.

She'd been here before, on a different planet, at a different landing platform, with running water instead of whirling dust. The sky had been blue, not red, and a gunshot and a nuke had been their mortal enemies. She hadn't let him die then, and she wouldn't let him now. She pulled him into a fireman's carry once more and watched another world fall from safety of the hangar bay.

And here, at the end of all things, she prayed for one more start.


	32. Focus

**Focus**

"My mother's in the Alliance Navy. Haven't heard from her since Earth got hit. She was posted with the Fifth Fleet, and the reports tell me most of the ships made it out safely, but...still, no contact. I suppose it's no surprise with the comms down, but..."

Garrus nodded, "I'm sure she's...okay."

She shook her head. "It's not that. It's just—" She looked like a dam ready to burst, biting her lip and refusing to make any of the more easily recognizable human expressions. "My parents had a place on Arcturus and my father...He's retired military and he would've...He would've been there."

Garrus said nothing, but reached out to touch her shoulder, a motion he'd seen her do with others when trying to comfort them. "Hackett says he had to sacrifice the entire Second Fleet just to get out of the system. They had to leave Arcturus Station and..." Her eyes took on a glossy sheen, something he'd seen before but never with her. "I don't know how you do that. I don't know how she could've just left him behind. I can't— I can't even imagine what she's going through."

He shifted uncomfortably. "You've had to make sacrifices before, Shepard."

"Not like that." Her voice was quiet. "I don't know how you pull yourself away like that. The reports say the station is just gone, just pieces, and I don't know how—" There was a catch in her voice and she just stopped talking, looking down.

He wanted to give her words of comfort, to tell her not to worry, but he couldn't find the strength to lie. The truth was that there was a very real possibility that she was going to need to learn how to make those kinds of choices, that they all would, to be able to tear her self away from the personal in order for the civilizations of the galaxy to make it through this war. It was one thing as a soldier to lose friends on the battlefield, in the heat of a firefight, but another to have stand back, powerless to do anything while those you loved– family, civilians- suffered and died. None of them had learned how to get past that yet, but it was only the beginning.

He cleared his throat and moved to the console, giving her the privacy necessary to recompose herself. "Well, I take it we're on our way to the summit?"

"Not yet, we're going to stop by the Citadel."

Garrus looked up and stared straight ahead at the guns, not turning to face her.

"It's just…there are just a few things I need to check up on first."

He nodded and said nothing. Once the door closed behind her, he allowed himself to sigh grimly. She was going to need to learn _fast_.


	33. Broken

**Broken**

The hospital was chaotic, filled with wounded that had come from so far away only to be greeted with worse news. The worlds that they had left behind had, by and large, been completely destroyed, and the people who had ordered them shipped out on medical evacs likely now numbered among the dead. The sights, sounds and smells were overwhelming in the main hall, but everything quieted when she entered the post-op room, and the hellish world outside seemed like an afterthought.

He looked terrible. His skin was a deathly pallor, unnervingly grey and white compared to his usual healthy brown hue. Color was starting to come back, but instead of warm tones, the hospital lights highlighted far too much yellow, blue, and green among his bruises. She brushed against his bed and her hand reached out instinctively, but she pulled it back in hesitation – his body seemed an unfamiliar sight, disconnected from the man she had known just a few years prior. Did he even want her at his bedside? Would he care to know that she had been here?

She stared in silence, hoping for some kind of response – something to help guide her, but none came.

"I know you can't hear me, I know this is ridiculous," She started hesitantly, "But I need you." Her voice was raw and tired, and the rest came out barely above a whisper. "I never told you how much you meant to me. I couldn't even admit to myself sometimes. Not with all of this going on," She waved her hand as if he could see her, as if her ineffectual gesture to the air around them explained everything. "I couldn't let myself take the time to just enjoy...life. I was too scared about what I might lose if I put it all out there on the line." She looked down, at her dress uniform, at the rank and insignia on her shoulders, at all she had worked so long and so hard for.

"But now I realize that when the world goes to hell, this..." She gestured again to the air between them, "This is all that really matters. What we are to one another. And I want...more, more than just..." She faltered, "Just being soldiers. I want a chance, I want to take a chance... with you." She reached for his hand, brushing it lightly. "Fight for me, Kaidan. Fight for me so I have something to fight for. Even if it's just a chance." Her voice was hoarse and broken now, and if she'd had tears to shed, they might have fallen, but she was beyond exhaustion. She couldn't even break now. She stared at his prone form, at the tubes and wires surrounding him, and felt like an idiot. He didn't respond. Nothing beeped to signal a change. She was confessing to herself, not to him. And without words of comfort, a nod of encouragement, or instruction on how to make it better, she felt hollow.

She dragged herself away, and threw herself back to the mission, trying not think about what it would mean if he never woke up, and she never had a chance to make things right.

And then in practically no time at all he was in the sights of her gun, standing between her and her target and she knew she couldn't pull the trigger. _Damn him_, sometimes how a thing went down did matter, and she didn't even take the shot when she could have. Some insane part of her, the part the rest of her instincts screamed out at in frustration, needed him to trust her again.

He took the shot, and a weight was lifted off her shoulders. Maybe they still had a chance. Maybe it was not beyond repair.


	34. All the feels

**All the feels**

They tumble into the cabin quickly, hands in hair, him half carrying her across the deck. In truth, they had started in the elevator, un-tucking shirts and fighting for dominance with their mouths. She knows it is an intimate gesture, one that can range from chaste to romantic to sexual, depending on how it is performed. Judging by their interaction, she calculates it is the latter. It is an odd thing to watch, and she attempts to simulate what it must feel like. She knows that human lips are soft, movable, and contain a high number of nerve endings, making them an erogenous zone in scenarios playing out like the one in front of her. But feeling, especially tactile response, is still an abstract concept at times, and she is not sure her hardware can fully replicate it.

She makes a sound that could be mistaken for pain when he goes for her neck. EDI knows it is a structural weak spot, with the carotid artery being protected by not much more than skin. A major blood vessel that could be easily nicked, causing serious damage or even death. But the sound is not pain, it's pleasure, and though they're often frustratingly similar sounds, she can tell the difference now.

She wonders if the soft features that make humans so vulnerable in combat are what have contributed to their successful population levels, shifting survival disadvantages to reproductive pluses. He kisses a contusion on her abdomen and she makes that sound again, and EDI finds herself not interested in searching for outside data.


	35. Can't Catch Me Now

**Can't Catch Me Now**

Kaidan swore. "How many men does Cerberus even have?" They'd been playing cat and mouse with the troopers for over an hour now. It was a never-ending game; every time they cleared an area, more troopers rocketed in, blocking the way to the objective. His patience and resolve were being tested, and not just by the Cerberus troopers.

Shepard appeared next to him again and a rocket went whizzing past the spot where she'd been seconds earlier. He saw her eyes go wide as she realized that an Atlas had joined the fray, and he groaned inwardly. A normal person would react with fear, or annoyance, or any general feeling of discontent when greeted with the knowledge that a giant armored mech had entered the battle. But Shepard? No, he knew that beneath her breather mask she was grinning like a kid in a candy store.

She switched her assault rifle out for the Black Widow, her head bobbing out of cover momentarily as she did so. Out of the corner of his eye, Kaidan saw her kinetic barrier flicker as it deflected a bullet, and he grimaced. She murmured something, and he had to do a double take when he realized that she was purring at the sniper rifle.

"Please tell me you did not just do that."

He saw the skin around her eyes crinkle through the visor, and he could tell that she was making that grin again. That wolfish grin that sometimes sent his thoughts straight to the bedroom, and other times gave him grey hairs.

It was doing the latter now.

"Me and Precious here are going to hijack us a ride out of here," she nodded with the rifle to a perch across the battlefield where container boxes were stacked – the perfect place to line up a few shots at the mech, but without much in the way of cover to protect from flanking. "Can't catch me now!" she whispered, and before he could protest, she had activated her cloaking device and shimmered out of sight.

Kaidan sighed, covering her exit, and not for the first time, reflected on the toll her inability to stay in cover was taking on his sanity.


	36. Heirloom

**Heirloom**

They don't talk much about the future. It makes the war and their slim odds all too real. It's too painful. He wants to make plans, he wants to let himself daydream about a house, or a cabin somewhere, about laughing children and getting to see her smile more often. About what she'll look like when she gets older, about lazy mornings spent wrapped in each other's arms.

But even thinking about it hurts. When he thinks about the past, that hurts too, not nearly enough good memories, and what few there are just remind him of what he's lost. So when the old memories stir up, he reaches for the pocketknife in his BDUs and tries to think about when he was a kid, about summers on the coast, fishing with his granddad. The knife is an old thing, but his grandfather had always kept it well sharpened and cleaned, and he continues to do the same. It's all he has of home.

One day it's not in his pocket anymore, and he nearly rips apart the ship looking for it. It's stupid, given all that's on their plate, but she notices the change in his demeanor and doesn't let him rest until he tells her what's wrong.

Three weeks go by, and he still hasn't found it. He still reaches for his pocket at times, forgetting that it's not there. He's down in the shuttle bay checking on supplies, and as his hand goes to reach for the phantom limb, she comes up behind him and presses a small, long box into his hands.

"Make a new heirloom," she whispers over her cup of coffee, and she gives him a restrained smile that's sad but somehow still manages to give him hope. By the time he's opened the box to reveal a brand new blade, the elevator doors have already closed behind her.

They don't talk much about the future. But he dares to hope.


	37. Choices

**Choices**

She had always tried to do right. Play by the rules. Give people second chances. She rewarded loyalty, honesty, and empathy. She had stretched herself thin over the past few years, trying so hard to save everyone. Trying so very hard to do good, whatever that meant, when the universe seemed hell-bent on making everything go to shit.

But no matter what she did, she couldn't save them all. She knew that, she had always known that. But she had tried so damn hard, come so damn far, and damnit, she felt like she deserved it. Just once, just once she wanted to know what it would be like to make an easy choice. Pizza or tacos. Beer or wine. Your place or mine. Something vaguely resembling normalcy. Something the entire fate of the galaxy didn't hinge on.

Her head was fuzzy; she knew she was bleeding out, if not already unconscious. Or dead. Shit, maybe Ash and her god had been right all along; this place certainly seemed like Hell.

"The paths are open, but you have to choose."

She regarded the small, incorporeal child for a moment. None of this made any sense. She had no idea what was happening. What any of it meant. She stared at three options before her, and made her choice. She had come here to finish what she had started. She had made her peace, she had said her goodbyes. She had honestly never expected to come back from this alive.

And when she pulled the trigger, it felt right. She had tried so damn hard to save them all, but she just didn't have it in her anymore.

This had to end, for once and for all.

.

.

.


End file.
